


Aidan

by AlyKat



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint and Phil are a little oblivious for awhile, Female to Male transition, M/M, They're good dads though, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, transvengers, transvengers assemble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 19:03:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4233213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyKat/pseuds/AlyKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fatherhood is a mission all on its own. One that Phil and Clint thought they were totally prepared for. They were completely ready to raise a daughter and all the things that came with it. At least, they thought they were...Aidan had other plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aidan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ralkana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ralkana/gifts).



> Okay, so...this fic was originally prompted to me waaaaaaaaay back in December I think? I can't remember. It was a while ago. And all the prompt was, was "C/C baaaaaaaaby fic!"
> 
> It was prompted to me by Ralkana, and I swear I did not forget you, Ral! I've been trying to come up with something good for this! Hopefully this works out and is good. :D I was having trouble coming up with something, amazingly enough, and then when I was eating supper and happened to let out a rather impressive belch (if I may say so myself) and my mom rolled her eyes at my "lady-likeness" it hit me! So here you go! It's baby/kid fic! Though probably not at ALL like you'd thought it would be!! :D

Mission: Daddyhood  
Days on Mission: 32  
Location: Avengers Tower. Apartment suite of Clinton "Hawkeye" Barton and husband Phillip Coulson

Clint leaned against the doorjamb, a sleepy smile on his face as he stared into the dimly lit nursery. Decorated in Classic Winnie-the-Pooh everything, the room was absolutely perfect for their newborn daughter. Aidan Nichole Barton. Phil had insisted she have Clint's last name when she was born, since she was, biologically, Clint's. Not that logistics mattered, because they didn't. She was beautiful, and tiny, and perfect, and theirs. Both of theirs.

In the nursery, Phil had Aidan on the changing table, quietly murmuring to her as he made short work of the dirty diaper she'd been sporting.

Clint had finally started drifting off to sleep, alone, when he'd heard the quiet little whimpers start up over the monitor. It'd taken him far longer than it should have for him to get up and get moving to the nursery, and when he finally made it there, Phil was home and out of his suit jacket, holding her close in the glider rocker as she nursed from the bottle.

When Phil finished feeding her, changing her, and getting her settled back in the crib, Clint slipped up behind him and rested his chin on Phil's shoulder.

"She's somethin' else, huh?" Clint asked in a hushed tone, watching as her bright blue eyes fluttered for a moment before finally falling shut and staying that way.

"She certainly is..." Phil answered, his own voice quiet but fond as he leaned back against Clint and just continued to watch their little girl sleep.

* * *

 

Months on Mission: 24

Aidan sat giggling in the living room as she crammed purple and pink Moon Sand into molds before smacking them down on the bottom of the play tray her daddies had set up for her. Daddy (Clint) was laying stretched out on the couch, keeping half an eye on her while he made up a new batch of arrows.

The door to the suite quietly clicked shut as Phil strolled through, Pepper following close behind.

Clint glanced up and smiled brightly at the pair and quickly put his things away, just in time for Aidan to run up to him with her hands filled with Moon Sand.

"Daddy!" She exclaimed, shoving her hands under Clint's nose, nearly shoving the gunk right on up.

Coughing, Clint shook his head and gently grasped her wrists. "Aidan, no. Sand stays in the tray. Go put it back, then go say hi to Aunt Pepper."

Aidan did as she was told and quickly ran to give both her Aunt and her Papa a big hug. She pulled back from clutching Phil's leg and held her arms straight up, bouncing on her toes.

"Up!" She proclaimed. "Papa up!"

Phil happily picked the little girl up, but had to shake his head fondly as he saw the finger paint smeared all over her denim overalls and in her blond pigtails. She was definitely going to need a bath, that much was obvious.

Turning back to face Pepper, Phil gave a nod and stepped back to the couch. He sat beside Clint and smiled as his husband leaned in to kiss him hello and Pepper came to stand by the arm rest, a pretty pink wrapped box in her hands.

"Since Tony and I have to miss your birthday next week," Pepper explained, her smile bright and sincere, "I thought I'd bring this up for you now so you can open it early."

Aidan eyed the gift wrap cautiously but made no real attempt to reach for it. Instead, she looked up to her Papa and then Daddy, then back at the box.

Clint huffed a fond laugh as he took it from Pepper and set it on his lap. "Sorry, I think she hangs out with Tony too much. Not real fond of being handed things."

"That's fine," Laughed Pepper.

With the help of little fingers, Clint got the box unwrapped and opened to reveal a very pretty pink and white sundress with white sandals adorn in pink flowers -- obviously picked out by Pepper with the greatest of care.

Aidan looked at the dress and shoes for a moment before reaching for the box to search through. Blatantly snubbing the gift. At least until she found the crayons and Safety Scissors buried at the bottom under all the tissue paper.

Beside the couch, Pepper ground out a low "Tony..." before sighing.

"We'd agreed on the dress and shoes. I'd told him she had enough crayons from Steve and that you guys probably didn't want her having scissors yet. I'm so sorry. I should have--"

Phil waved her off with a small smile and head shake. "It's alright, Pepper. She won't be able to cut herself with them. It'll be fine. Thank you, for the gifts. We'll be sure to send you and Tony both a picture of her in the dress," Looking back down to his daughter, Phil bounced her on his knee gently. "Won't we?"

Aidan didn't answer, instead she turned to shove her hands up, showing Phil and Clint both the crayons and purple plastic scissors. Even though she had absolutely no interest in the rest of her gift, it was easy enough to write it off to the fact that no kid was thrilled with getting clothes for their birthday.

* * *

 

Months on Mission: 52

The screams of a tantrum echoed off the walls of the entire suite, and if it weren't for the fact each floor was soundproof, it no doubt would have drawn all the worried and concerned superheroes living in the tower right to them. As it was, Clint and Phil both were having to try and hold the screeching and flailing little girl down so that they could wrangle her into her Christmas dress. It'd been a gift from Carol and Rhodey, and since they'd never actually been able to get a good picture of Aidan in her sundress from Pepper the year before last, or the nice dark purple dress Bruce had gotten for her last Christmas, they were determined to get her into a dress this year for Christmas.

Phil's grasp on her was firm, but not enough to bruise or actually hurt (despite what her screams of "pain" might say), and Clint was most certainly not killing her as he tried to brush through her hair and get it up into the cute little red faux velvet bow. The dress itself, which had taken an hour just to get her into to begin with, was a deep red satiny piece with black bubble outlines throughout, and a black sash around the waist, accented with a red flower. It was absolutely beautiful, and Aidan looked precious wearing it, with her white tights and shiny black Mary Jane's.

As Aidan's arm flailed out and her hand caught Clint square in the nose, Clint dropped the hair brush and bow, and stepped back. His hand covering his face as he quietly cursed in three different languages. None of which were English.

Frustrated and tired, not to mention nursing a migraine from hell after all of Aidan's screaming, Phil turned her in his lap and took a firm hold of her chin, turning her head so she was looking at him. "Aidan Nichole, that is enough."

The sobbing came to a complete cease, but the sniffling continued as she took in shallow, shaky breaths.

Phil sighed and gently released her chin before glancing back to Clint, concern creasing his forehead. "You okay?"

"Yeah..." Clint's head was tilted down and Phil could just see the dark red peeking out from the edge of the tissue.

Turning his attention back to Aidan, Phil's frown was stern and clearly not at all amused. "You owe your Daddy an apology, and I want you to start behaving like a young lady. Understood?"

"No!" Aidan yelped, eyes showing her own displeasure at the whole situation.

Balking for a moment, Phil blinked. "No? No, you're not going to apologize? Or no, you aren't going to act like a young lady?"

Aidan tried to squirm from Phil's hold on her and let out a frustrated growl when she couldn't. "Not no lady!"

Behind Phil, Clint gave a couple of soft sniffles of his own before blowing his nose out and tossing the used tissues into the trash can. He came to stand over Phil's shoulder again, not even bothering to pick up the brush or hair bow. At his appearance, Aidan did at least look contrite, and her bottom lip trembled as she looked up at her Daddy.

"I sorry, Daddy..." She whimpered softly, looking up at Clint from under her own long, dark lashes.

Clint shook his head as he reached out to smooth down her hair gently. "Apology accepted. Thank you. Now, will you please sit still so I can finish doing up your hair? Please?"

The sad and apologetic look instantly vanished from Aidan's face as she shook her head fiercely, dirty blond hair whipping around her like a whirlwind.

"NO! Don't WANT hair done! Don’t want DRESSES!"

"But, don't you want to look pretty for the picture?" Asked Phil, confusion evident in his voice.

Aidan's head shook again and she squirmed to get out of Phil's hold. "NO! Pretty's for girls!"

Clint squatted down next to her, catching her attention. "Sweetie," He said softly, "You are a girl. You're a very beautiful little girl. So, if you don't want the bow in your hair, that's fine. We'll leave your hair down for the picture. Okay?"

Aidan sat quietly in Phil's lap, her bottom lip trembling and blue-green eyes shining bright with unshed tears. It was obvious something wasn't quite right, that she wanted to object more, or say something at least, but whatever it was, she couldn't find the words to explain. Instead, she huffed and snuffled, and drew in a shaky breath, before the tears finally started to fall and she just pressed herself into her Papa's chest to cry.  

Holding her close, Phil rested his cheek on her head, and rubbed his hand gently up and down her back. He turned his gaze to Clint, silently questioning what to do. Clint shook his head and frowned as he reached out to rub soothing circles into Aidan's back.

They'd try for a nice family portrait some other time.

* * *

 

Months on Mission: 54

Aidan ran for her bedroom, her Safety Scissors in hand, and slammed the door behind her. Her Daddy had tried, once again, to get her hair up into a pretty pink bow, despite her crying and squirming and screams that she didn't want the pink bow. Now was her time to act! While Daddy was distracted with talking to Uncle Tony and Papa was off on a business trip.

Sitting under her table in the corner of the room, Aidan gripped the scissors firmly in her fingers, grabbed a clump of hair, and used every bit of muscle she had to get the plastic blades to cut through it. It wouldn't, of course. Tony had been at least somewhat conscious of what scissors in little fingers were capable of doing and managed to buy the kind that would only cut on paper.

Frustrated that the scissors wouldn't cut, Aidan tossed them with a growl across the room and pouted for a long moment before the bulb lit above her head. The bathroom! She'd seen Daddy and Papa get scissors out of the First-Aid box lots of times!  


In an instant she was scurrying out from under the table and darting out for the bathroom. Up the shelves of the linen closest she climbed, careful not to knock things over until she had the bright white box with the big red plus sign in the middle in hand. She tucked the handle between her teeth, freeing her hands so she could climb down.

Once she was on the floor again, it was just a matter of second for her to get the box open, the scissors out, and clumps of hair to be chopped off unevenly.

Hair was scattered all around her when Clint opened the door to find out what was going on. Aidan grinned up at him. She was so pleased with herself for making sure her Daddy couldn't put stupid pink bows in her hair anymore.

The color drained from Clint's face and he gripped the doorjamb for support as he stared down at the mess surrounding Aidan. The dirty blond hair that was in piles in her lap and all around her. Behind him, Tony stepped up to peek over his shoulder at what had Clint so deathly still.

“Huh,” He breathed, slapping his hand across Clint’s back. “That’s my cue to leave. I’ll uh, I’ll see you later, Barton.”

Still sitting on the floor and smiling up proudly at Clint, Aidan held the shiny, silver scissors up towards him. “Look, Daddy!” She cried, “No more bows!”

Clint couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped him as he silently moved into the bathroom to take the scissors and set them on the sink. Words were not something he could come up with at the moment, and it was probably better if he didn’t even try.

He picked Aidan up off the floor and held her close as he made his way to the kitchen.

“Mr. Barton,” JARVIS said, almost hesitantly, as Clint go Aidan settled in her booster seat at the table. “I’ve taken the liberty of placing an order for a home hair cutting kit to be delivered. It should be here within the hour.”

Clint could only nod. He leaned back against the counter behind him, covered his face with his hands, and mentally ran through all the ways Phil was going to kill him when he got home.

That night, as Clint held his sleeping daughter in his arms, he slipped into Phil’s home office and turned on the secure server computer.

“Secure channel 0-8-1-8,” He quietly said.

A second later a video screen appeared, and a moment after that, Phil’s sleepy and befuddled face.

Clint smiled at the sight of him. How could he not? Sliding down into the comfortable computer chair, he rocked it back and forth gently in an attempt to keep Aidan asleep.

“Hey Handsome,” Clint smiled, “Didn’t mean to wake you up. Where are you?”

“Hamburg,” Phil answered, even as the video and sound lagged just a bit. Phil’s face furrowed in confusion, eyes squinting in the most adorable way, before he moved to reach off screen only to reappear a second later wearing his glasses.

“Who’s that?”

Clint cringed and frowned, turning towards the buzzed cut head resting peacefully on his shoulder.

“This…is our beautiful little girl, whom I had to remind myself a few times we do in fact love very much and selling her to a traveling circus wouldn’t be a good idea for anyone.”

Phil was silent for far longer than really necessary, even given the lag time in the connection – because not even Stark was good enough to completely eradicate that particular annoyance. When he did finally speak, it was slow and calm.

“Why did you give her a buzz cut?”

“Because,” Clint took a breath, “It was either that, or let her run around looking like that creepy baby doll thing from Toy Story.”

“…one or three?”

As much as he didn’t want to, Clint smiled at that. Aidan had become completely hooked on all three of the Toy Story movies, which meant Phil and Clint had seen them all more times than they could possibly count. It wasn’t uncommon for Clint to catch Phil randomly quoting lines from any of the three movies; or for Phil to walk in on Clint singing “I Will Go Sailing No More” to Aidan as her lullaby of choice for the night.

“One,” Clint laughed. “The one with the stubby bits of hair sticking up all over and only one eye.”

Phil shuddered and shook his head. Frowning, he sat up to stretch and get comfortable on the bus’ futon. “Okay,” Phil muttered, running a hand down his face. “I think you need to start at the beginning.”

“I was trying to put her hair up so it’d stay out of her face,” Clint explained, leaning back a bit in the chair. “Tony came up and started talking to me. Aidan scooted out of the chair and ran off. I figured she ran for her toys.”

“But she didn’t.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Phil was too smart to pose it as a question.

Clint shook his head. “I found her in the bathroom surrounded by clumps of hair. She’d gotten the scissors out of the First-Aid kit when she found out her plastic ones wouldn’t cut hair.” He sighed heavily, every bit of his being showing just how exhausted and resigned he was over the matter. “I found her scissors tossed in a corner in her room, behind her door.”

The frown was very clear on Phil’s face as the pair sat in silence, just staring across the computer screen at each other. There was nothing to be done about Aidan’s hair, now. Clint had done the best he could once he got the kit, and actually, Aidan had seemed downright ecstatic to have her hair buzzed off.

“Maybe,” Clint finally said, breaking the long stretch of silence between them, “we should just keep her hair short enough it doesn’t need to be put up or pulled back?”

Phil shook his head. “We can’t keep her hair buzzed like that. People are going to think she’s a boy.”

“No, I know,” it was Clint’s turn to shake his head, “but what if we just let it grow out long enough to bowl cut it or something? Use to be lots of little girls with bowl cuts, right?”

“I wouldn’t know, Clint.” Phil frowned and quirked a brow. “When I was a kid, all the little girls wore their hair in pigtails or ponytails until at least junior high.”

Clint rolled his eyes and shifted in the chair. He tried to move Aidan carefully in an attempt to get the feeling back into his right arm, which had fallen asleep almost as soon as he’d sat down.

“You’re not that old, Phil.” He mumbled, shaking his head. “I went to kindergarten with a girl who had a bowl cut. Aidan could pull one off, I think. It’d be cute. And if she get mistaken for a boy, so what? We’ll deal with it when and if it happens. Right?”

Nodding and fighting back a yawn, Phil hummed quietly in agreement. “When and if it happens, yes.”

* * *

 

Months on Mission: 63

Clint held the phone to his ear as he scrolled through the Disney Store website, trying to find a Halloween costume for Aidan that she’d agree to wear. So far, he hadn’t had much luck. Except for one, but he wasn’t so sure about it, to be completely honest. Which was why he was on the phone with Phil, disregarding the sounds of possibly gunfire (or laser fire? Maybe? Who knew) in the background.

“I thought she was going to be Pluto for Halloween?” Phil barely sounded breathless on the other end. Must not have been that big of a battle.

“I thought so too,” Clint answered, shaking his head. “But then Tony went and watched The Lone Ranger with her and now she’s insisting she wants to be Tonto.”

“Are there even any costumes for that?”

The screen changed back to the previous page as Clint sighed. “Yeah, actually. There are. Little boy’s costumes online. I’m looking at one right now.”

There was a long pause over the line and if it weren’t for the fact Clint could hear the fight coming to a close and Phil’s gentle breath, he’d swear he’d been hung up on.

“I’m going to assume she’s not wanting to be Tonto from the original Lone Ranger?”

Clint huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Johnny Depp. She wants to be that Tonto.”

“Alright,” sighed Phil, “Just get her the costume then. No need to fight over it.”

Hitting “Add to Cart”, Clint browsed through the website a bit more before changing tabs and scrolling through other costumes.

“Hey, Phil? Want me to buy you the Lone Ranger outfit and I’ll go as a personification of Silver?”

“Why would you want to be a personification of a horse?”

A wicked coy smirk tugged at the corner of Clint’s mouth as he leaned back in the computer chair and waggled his eyebrows at thin air. “Because. Lone Ranger rides Silver off into the sunset every time.”

“Clint, that makes no—“

Clint’s smirk turned into a full on grin as the innuendo finally caught up to Phil.

“You’re a horrible man, Barton. I’m never going to be able to watch that movie ever again.”

* * *

 

Months on Mission: 74

Phil sighed as he shifted in the pint sized chair. Beside him, Clint was looking around the kindergarten classroom with great interest, taking in the sights of the alphabet and number line above the chalkboard and the kiddie drawings hanging on the walls. It was a typical classroom, clean and proper, bright and warm, and everything to be expected for a private school.

They’d debated for over a year what to do with Aidan when it came time for schooling. Being the daughter of a superhero and an agent of SHIELD made her a target for whatever Villain of the Week that poked his head out of the sand, but ultimately, the decision was made. Both Phil and Clint wanted her to get exposure to other kids her own age, which meant home schooling was completely out of the question. Yet, they wanted her somewhere safe and secure, where no one could claim to know her and nab her. Which instantly put public school out of the running.  


Leman Manhattan Prep School, while not the easiest to get to, had finally been the one Phil and Clint had decided on. And for the first few weeks, it seemed as if they’d made the right choice and Aidan was handling being so far away from her parents just fine.

Until now.

Now, Phil and Clint sat in her kindergarten room with Ms. Fletcher, Aidan’s teacher, smiling across at them pleasantly from her desk.

“Thank you both for coming in. I know it’s not always easy to get to get to Lower Manhattan at this time of day.” Ms. Fletcher said, her voice soft and kind, the perfect tone for dealing with kindergarteners all day long.

“It was no trouble,” said Phil, pasting on his best pleasant and polite smile, the one he’d practiced far too often.

Clint nodded as he finally turned his attention back to Ms. Fletcher. “Yeah. No problem. Just kind of curious why you asked to meet with us. Thought everything was going great with Aidan. She’s not causing trouble, is she?”

Ms. Fletcher paused for a moment, glancing down and away from the pair before she answered, “No. Not exactly.”

Phil glanced to Clint, a curious eyebrow raised, then turned back to Ms. Fletcher. “Not exactly?”

“Generally, Aidan is an absolute sweetheart. She’s polite and always willing to help when I ask for volunteers. It’s just…” The words trailed off as Ms. Fletcher fought to find the right things to say. When she couldn’t she shook her head and carefully placed a decorated file folder in front of them.

Aidan’s name was scrawled in pink and white block letters across the front, surrounded by stars and hearts and princess stickers. None of which were things Aidan enjoyed. Well, except stars. She did have a love for stars and anything space related.

Clint reached out hesitantly to open the folder. He moved like a man who was waiting for something to explode or pop out at him. Inside, were a few loose papers with drawings and alphabet practice on them, but also a small bound “book” entitled A Story of Me.

“When we started off the year, my aide and I helped the students write these little stories about themselves to make copies of and hand out to everyone in class, as a way for the children to get to know one another,” Ms. Fletcher explained as Clint pulled the book out and showed the front of it to Phil.

The cover had a very abstractly drawn Avengers Tower on the front, with three figures standing far too tall on the landing pad. One with spiky hair holding a bow and arrow, one wearing a tie and sunglasses, and the third, smaller figure, also with short spiky hair with a speech bubble proclaiming, “NO MORE BOWS!”

Aidan’s hair, while still much shorter than the rest of the girls in her class, wasn’t near as short as she’d drawn it to be in her picture.

Phil shifted his chair closer to Clint’s so that he could read over his husband’s shoulder while Ms. Fletcher continued to talk.

“Aidan had quite a bit of trouble when she reached the end of the book. The page asks what the children wanted to be when they grew up. Aidan refused to answer at first and once Miss Melanie – that’s my teaching aide – finally got her to say what she wanted to be,” Ms. Fletcher paused again, letting Phil and Clint flip that far back and stare at the page in disbelief. “Miss Melanie told me Aidan was in tears.”

 _What do you want to be when you grow up?_ The question at the top of the page read. Below it was a space for a picture to be drawn, filled in with Aidan’s crayon scribbles of two men – one her Daddy and one her Papa – and a third figure standing just as tall with just as spiky hair and looking very much male instead of female. _ME._ Was written next to the drawing, an arrow pointing towards the third figure. Under the space, Aidan’s messy scrawl spelled things out perfectly.

_I want to be me as a boy!_

Looking up, Clint blinked owlishly at Ms. Fletcher.

“I’m going to assume,” Ms. Fletcher edged hesitantly, glancing back and forth between the two of them, “that this is the first you’re hearing about it?”

Phil and Clint both slowly shook their heads. The three adults sat in silence for a long moment before Phil finally cleared his throat and moved to sit up straighter in the chair. His Agent Coulson mask back in full force and it was clear to see he’d transitioned into a mission briefing mindset.

“Aidan has never been much for dresses or girl-ish things. We just always assumed it was because she was growing up in a tower full of male superheroes.”

Clint sat up quickly, putting the small booklet down on the desk again. “Well, I mean, she’s got aunts, ya know? Pepper and Natasha. They’re really great. Pepper would buy her girl stuff all the time, and Natasha –“

“Natasha’s probably not the picture of feminine role model,” Phil cut in quietly, giving Clint a small shrug.

“I’m telling her you said that.”

Across the desk, Ms. Fletcher raised her hands just slightly, enough to get their attention and be allowed to speak again. “I don’t believe the surroundings has any bearings on what Aidan believes and feels.”

With their eyes back on her, she paused for just a moment before she continued. “We have our own restrooms located in-room, so the little ones don’t have to wander down the halls by themselves. Aidan will go straight for the little boys room every time, and I have on a number of occasions heard her tell the other little girls that she’s not a girl, she doesn’t play house or dolls.”

Bent forward with his elbows on his knees, Clint scrubbed down his face until his chin came to rest on the heels of his hands, fingers covering his mouth and nose as he stared across the desk at Ms. Fletcher. It was surreal and at the same time, almost not at all surprising to be hearing these things. Clint had noticed for a while that Aidan had an extreme dislike for all things “girly”, and he’d often joked with Tony about how she was “allergic” to anything princess or pink. He’d never thought, though, that their beautiful little girl was hurting inside and obviously wasn’t feeling right in her own skin. That she wanted to be a boy. Believed she was a boy.

Beside him, Phil let out a long, slow breath.

“We’ll go home and have a talk with Aidan, find out more about what is going on,” He said, voice calm and cool, collected like it was during any op that felt like it was going pear-shaped.

“If it’s determined that she’d rather be identified as a boy, what kinds of precautious or troubles would that cause as far as enrollment here? Would he be allowed to wear the boy’s uniform instead of the girls?”

Ms. Fletcher frowned, shaking her head sadly.

“I honestly do not know,” She admitted. “I don’t think we have any policy in place for such an occurrence. It could be that since the enrollment forms state she is a female, that she’d be required to dress as such. Or, it could be that you would have to re-enroll her as a male. I am waiting to hear back from the principal and superintendent on what to do to handle this particular situation.”

_Particular situation._

Clint let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and slouched back in the chair. He turned his head just in time to meet Phil’s concerned but determined gaze. Without ever saying a word, they held a private conversation over how to proceed.

With a final nod, Phil looked back to Ms. Fletcher and said, “We’ll talk to Aidan. Please keep us informed on whatever the superintendent says. We’ll figure things out from there.”

At home, after they’d finished their supper and cleaned up the dishes, Clint stooped to pick Aidan up and carried her to the overstuffed chair in the far corner of the living room. It was designated the “Conference Chair,” where he and Phil could sit with Aidan on their lap and try to weasel information out of her. The one place where no subjects were off limits and conflicts were usually tried to be resolved before any “drastic” measures were taken.

Clint sat down, made himself comfortable and made sure to leave room for Phil to settle on the arm of the chair next to them. He turned Aidan so she was facing them and reached up to brush the stray strands of dirty blond hair away from her eyes. She’d always had such pretty hair, even with it so short.

With a fond smile in place, Clint drew his hand away and took a breath. It was now or never. He was going to try to do this the way he and Phil had discussed on the way home. Ease into it. Be gentle but reassuring. Don’t assume anything.

“Aidan,” started Clint, “Your Papa and I went to go see your teacher this afternoon. Do you know why?”

Aidan shook her head.

“Ms. Fletcher wanted us to see the story you wrote and to let us know that maybe you aren’t as happy as we think you are.” Clint paused, watching as Aidan’s big blue eyes darted from Phil, to him, to Phil, to him again.

“Are you happy, sweetie?” Asked Phil as he reached out, smoothing her bangs down gently.

Aidan sat quiet for a long minute before her bottom lip started to tremble. Slowly, she shook her head ‘no.’

Clint and Phil stared at each other, both in disbelief that they somehow hadn’t noticed she wasn’t happy, and confused as to why she’d never said anything. They both had always agreed, and tried to express to Aidan, that she could talk to them about anything, and that there was never a reason for her to be ashamed of herself, or anything she was feeling. Clint never wanted her to grow up “emotionally fucked-up” like he always claimed he was.

Attention back on Aidan, Clint pulled her closer and pressed his lips to her forehead gently before moving back to look her in the eyes. He saw the tears forming there, the innocent sadness of a child confused as to why their parents didn’t understand them.

“Why aren’t you happy, baby?” He asked softly. “What is making you sad?”

Aidan’s chest shuddered as she drew in a shaky breath and sniffled before answering, “You treat me like a girl.”

“Are we not supposed to?” Phil questioned cautiously.

“No,” cried Aidan, the tears finally rolling down her cheeks. “I’m not a girl! I’m a boy! Ev’rybody keeps c-callin’ me a g-girl! An’…an’ I’m not!”

Clint held Aidan close to his chest, letting the tears soak through his shirt while their daughter – son? – sobbed. This was something neither he, nor Phil, had much experience in, and the fact that they were a bit clueless as to how to proceed made things even worse.

Cheek resting on Aidan’s head, Clint looked up to meet Phil’s eyes. The look on his husband’s face mirrored his own. The unspoken question heavy in the air between them.

Now what?

~*~*~*~

  
After getting Aidan tucked in for the night, the living room cleared up, and everything in order for the following day, Phil slipped into bed beside Clint and stared up at the ceiling for a long, silent, while. Clint was still sitting up, propped against the headboard and with this tablet in hand, furiously swiping across the screen in a way he usually only did when playing a game. Only, there was no sound coming from the tablet this time. And there was a crease in his brow that showed up whenever he was focusing and thinking intently on something.

When Phil finally glanced over to see what Clint was doing, he squinted at the screen. “Gender therapists?”

Clint gave a partial hum in acknowledgement.

“I’m usually the one doing the research.” Phil added, sitting up to look over Clint’s shoulder.

“You were busy taking care of Aidan. Figured I’d get a jump on it. There’s a therapist in Manhattan that’s apparently supposed to be really good with kids, and look, there’s even a name for kids who believe they’re a different gender than what they are,” Clint paused to switch tabs and turned the screen enough for Phil to see it better, “Right there, ‘gender dysphoria’. And it says that a lot of kids who show this, gender dysphoria-whats-it, will probably grow out of it by puberty and instead become gay or lesbian.”

Setting the tablet down in his lap, Clint turned to look at Phil with a quirked eyebrow and teasing smile. “You ever tell your parents you weren’t a little boy, you were really a little girl? Play dress up?”

Phil rolled his eyes and took the tablet. “No. No I did not. Not in the area of Chicago I grew up in.”

With a soft half laugh, Clint settled himself down on the bed and made sure everything was just right so he could drift off to sleep. Phil hummed in thought, but didn’t so much as budge when Clint tried to pull his pillow out from behind Phil.

“Why were you looking up children gender therapists? You wouldn’t even go to your mandatory SHIELD psych evals without someone dragging you.” Phil said, finally leaning forward enough for Clint to steal the pillow back.

Clint shrugged, punched the pillow a few times, and stuffed it under his head as he flopped back down. “It came up when I was trying to search stuff. Read about ‘em, sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me, but…if it might help Aidan with whatever’s going on in her mind or whatever, then maybe it’s worth a shot. And if she doesn’t outgrow this by puberty then, apparently ya kind of need to do the gender therapy before any docs will give you medication or treatment or whatever so…”

Clint trailed off awkwardly. He rarely liked drawing attention to the fact he wasn’t the dumb hick everyone always thought he was, that he did know things and did know how to research things.

The tablet set to sleep mode and put back on the nightstand, Phil reached to turn their lights off and slid down lower so he could wrap his arms around Clint. They kissed slow, gentle. Not the kind of kiss that was meant to go any further, instead, just meant to comfort and reassure themselves that things were alright. That they would be alright.

Pulling back, Phil stroked his thumb under Clint’s eye gently. They laid there in the dark, noses just touching.

“We’ll get things figured out,” murmured Phil, “Nothing has to be decided right away. We’ll just have to play this one by ear.”

Clint huffed and turned his head to kiss Phil’s palm. “You hate playing by ear.”

“I know,” Phil smirked, rolling onto his back and pulling Clint across his chest. “Right now, though, I don’t know what else we should really do. I’ll check into the therapists you found, we’ll take her in if for nothing else than just a quick meeting. Maybe, we won’t even need them. This could just be a phase, like that article said. Something she’ll grow out of in a few years.”

As the quiet of the master bedroom wrapped around them and started to tug them under to sleep, Clint sighed softly and nodded.

“Yeah,” he yawned, “maybe it’s just a phase…”

* * *

 

Months on Mission: 90

A year of going to therapists all yielded the same results, each time:

“She’s got a very wonderful imagination…”

“All children go through phases such as this. It’s nothing to be alarmed about.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. She has a good head on her shoulders. This will all sort out by the time she starts puberty.”

“No, I don’t think you should be concerned. Humor her at home, play along, but I wouldn’t run out and go changing any official documents and insisting everyone refer to her as a boy. It’s a phase she is going through. It will all work itself out in the end.”

* * *

  
Months on Mission: 135

…it wasn’t just a phase…

* * *

  
Months on Mission: 137

It was well past ten o’clock on Christmas Day night when the cry rang out, just a split second before JARVIS interrupted the festivities to let Clint and Phil know Aidan was in distress. No one even let the AI finish before they were running down the hall for the bathroom, where Aidan had wandered off to just a minute or two before.

Clint was the first to the door, shoulder coming to a sickening crack as it connected with the door that wouldn’t budge. He jiggled the handle.

Locked.

“JARVIS! Unlock the door!” he called, ready to break it down if need be.

From inside, a panicked yell of, “NO!!” stopped them all in their tracks.

Phil stepped up next to Clint, his hand on the doorknob. “Aidan, it’s us, unlock the door.”

“NO! I might be contagious!”

Everyone looked at each other in confusion, shrugged their shoulders and mumbled, “I dunno,” under their breaths.

Shaking his head, Phil leaned back in towards the door. “Aidan. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“I’m dying!”

Panic flashed across Clint’s face as he turned, drawing back to simply kick the door in, only to be stopped by Pepper as she and Natasha stepped forward. Pepper placed a hand on Phil’s shoulder and gave a small smile.

“Let me try,” She said, softly. “This may require a woman’s touch.”

The implication that there was something wrong with Aidan that Phil and Clint weren’t capable to handle left a sour taste in the back of Phil’s throat – and Clint’s too, if the look on his face was anything to go off of – but he stepped aside just the same. If Pepper could at least get Aidan to unlock the door, then maybe Phil and Clint could go in and get to Aidan.

Pepper knocked on the door gently, head bent down towards it almost conspiringly, saying quietly, “Aidan? Sweetie, I’m sure you’re not dying. What happened?”

There was silence for a moment before another growl of frustration came through the door.

“I went to the bathroom and there’s blood everywhere!”

Instantly, Tony turned and walked away, downing his cup of eggnog and threatening to go for something harder because “a tower of PMS” was clearly his punishment for wrongs in a past life.

Bruce ducked his head and adjusted his glasses a bit before whispering to Phil he was going to make Aidan a cup of hot tea and a heat pack.

Pepper rolled her eyes at Tony but gave a small smile to the closed door. “If I send everyone else away, will you open the door and let me in so we can talk?”

“No! I want my dads…” Aidan’s voice dropped in volume and held just the slightest quiver to it.

With that as their cue, Phil and Clint both stepped in closer to the door.

“We’re still here, kiddo,” Clint called, and then turned to shoo Thor and Steve off, Natasha having already disappeared from the group. The two frowned in concern but did nod in understanding and wander back off to sit in the living room and wait.

Phil moved in closer, hand on Clint’s lower back. “Everyone else is gone. Please unlock the door now?”

It took a minute, but the lock finally clicked, granting them access just as Natasha reappeared carrying a blue box, with the words Tampax Pearl printed across the front. Clint and Phil looked to Natasha, then the box, then back up to Natasha and watched as she rolled her eyes at them.

“Please. She’s been eating through chocolate like there’s no tomorrow, crankier than Stark without coffee, and yesterday she burst into tears for no apparent reason. You think I didn’t put two and two together?” She frowned and shook her head as she breezed by them both and followed Pepper into the spacious bathroom.

Aidan was sitting in the bathtub with a towel covering her from the waist down. Her shoes, socks and jeans were tossed into a crumpled pile in the corner across the room, and it was obvious by the lack of color to her cheeks that she was beyond terrified. School apparently hadn’t gotten around to The Talk yet.

Phil closed the door behind him and stood near it to guard it, just in case. The others each moved towards the tub, Natasha pausing to set the box of tampons down by the toilet before going to stand by Clint’s side. Clint, who maybe looked just as pale as Aidan did at the moment. Sure, he knew what was going on and that she wasn’t actually dying, but still! This was his little girl! His baby! She’d now officially hit the stage of no return. He’d have to start admitting their baby girl was growing up.

For the next few minutes, Clint, Natasha and Pepper alternated between themselves in explaining to Aidan what had happened and what was going to happen. Clint, obviously, couldn’t offer a whole lot since he was a male and didn’t fully understand what it was like, but he’d grown up in the circus and had learned quite a bit from all the women there, through the years. From his spot by the door, Phil could watch as the distress just seemed to build on Aidan’s face, despair and heartache evident in her eyes by the time Natasha finally finished explaining how the tampons worked and how important it was to change them every four hours.  

When they’d finished, and Pepper kindly asked if Aidan had any questions, Aidan took a deep, trembling breath, and looked up to meet their eyes. “This is going to happen every month?”

Pepper reached out, a sympathetic smile on her face as she ran her hand down Aidan’s pixie-cut hair. “Afraid so. It’s not so bad once you get used to it. Sometimes it’s kind of fun to use it to your advan—“

“FUN!?” Exclaimed Aidan, jumping to her feet with the towel clutched tightly around her waist. “FUN?! There is nothing ‘fun’ about this! I shouldn’t have to get used to it! I shouldn’t have to even be having this! I don’t want it!”

Surprised, all four adults drew back a bit, Clint casting a glance to Phil over his shoulder before looking back to Aidan.

“Baby, I know you don’t want it, but…it’s just the way it is. I’m sorry. There’s nothing anybody can do about it.” Clint tried to calm her down, to get her to stop panicking. Instead, Aidan turned to him with fire snapping in her eyes.

“I don’t want this! I never have! I don’t want to get breasts or having stupid periods every month! It’s humiliating! I shouldn’t have to be having these things! I’m not a—“ Aidan’s jaw snapped shut with a harsh click as she cut her own sentence off and shook her head.

“Not what?” Asked Pepper. She was clearly trying to understand and it wasn’t working so well.

Aidan shook her head again and moved to shove past the three adults at the tub. “Nothing. Forget it. Nobody listens anyways. Nobody _ever_ listens! Out! All of you! _Out!_ ”

For a moment, no one moved, not even so much as to blink. At least, not until Aidan let out another frustrated sound and moved to shove Phil towards the door, tears streaking down her cheeks.

“ _OUT_!!” It was a broken shriek that cracked at the highest point and had Aidan crying all the harder by the time she finally slammed the bathroom door shut again. The four adults standing dumbfounded in the hallway.

Pepper was the first to break the silence once they heard the door lock click again and Aidan’s sobs from within. Turning, she leveled Phil and Clint with a confused and concerned glare.

“What was that all about?”

Phil sighed and Clint ran a hand down his face. They exchanged glances and frowns. They had a pretty good idea what it was about, but they weren’t quite ready to say anything to the others about it just yet. Not because they were ashamed of Aidan, because they weren’t! Never could be! They were still just trying to figure things out themselves. Even with it being nearly six years since the first sobbed confession of Aidan wanting to be a boy, they were still trying to figure things out. Mostly for Aidan’s sake.

“It’s,” Phil started, but the word dragged out and trailed off.

Clint picked it up for him. “It’s something we’re trying to work out on our own right. Thanks.”

With a frown, Natasha and Pepper both stared at them for what felt like ages before finally giving Phil and Clint a break and looking away. It was something they were trying to work out on their own, and not having a whole lot of luck with.

* * *

 

Months on Mission: 154

Ever since Aidan had started puberty, Clint and Phil could tell that she’d become even more depressed than she’d already been. She’d keep herself locked away in her room, barely coming out long enough to eat family dinners or to go to school. Which she hated with a burning passion. Especially when it became clear she wouldn’t be allowed to wear slacks, instead had to wear the skirts the other girls wore.

The others would try to brighten her spirits, Pepper would even take her to department stores for the little make-overs they’d do at the cosmetics counters or to get her nails done. But every time they’d come home, Aidan would be more and more withdrawn. Her scowling resting face was beginning to outdo her father’s. Which, as Tony commented one night, was the most impressive thing he’d ever seen a twelve year old do.

Despite wanting to pretend things were okay, Clint and Phil knew deep down that it wasn’t just a “phase”, like all the gender therapists and child psychiatrists they’d taken Aidan to, claimed it to be. They got their proof when spools of medical wrap began going missing from First-Aid kits all around the tower. And then from the medical floor all together.

It wasn’t until a couple months before her thirteenth birthday that they found out where it had been disappearing to and why. When they found Aidan passed out on the floor of the gym, barely able to breathe. The cause? Medical wrap wound too tightly around her chest.

That was when Clint and Phil knew.

That was when they finally took action.

* * *

 

Months on Mission: 156

Aidan stared at all of the presents stacked up on the table in the commons room. The decorations everywhere happily proclaiming a wonderful 13th birthday to her. She stood in the middle of the room, dressed in a pair of basketball shorts and a much too baggy for her T-shirt, the sleeves of which rolled up to her shoulders. Earlier that day, her Dad had taken her out to get her hair cut. Not to the regular place they’d usually go, where the woman stylist would fawn over how pretty she was, and what pretty hair she had, and oh it was such a shame to have it cut so short, so she was only going to take about half of what Aidan asked for off. So it didn’t look like a boy cut. No. That’s not where he’d taken her. Instead, they went to a place in the Village where a wonderful man named Karlos (“That’s with a K, not a C, baby.”) had done exactly what he’d been asked to do.

Now, instead of a feminine pixie cut, Aidan’s hair was short all around, but just long enough up top that it could be spiked like her Dad’s usually was.

All of the presents were wrapped in blue, red, and orange papers, and there was an obvious absents of anything even remotely feminine. Not even the birthday cake her dads were holding held any design to show it was meant for a girl. Instead, it had Aidan’s favorite video game characters on it.

“Happy Birthday, Aidan!” They both exclaimed, grinning brightly at Aidan.

Lips rolled together, Aidan tried not to cry as she moved to hug her parents tight. She laughed her way through opening the presents that were laid out for her: a dart game from her Dad, a skateboard with safety gear from Pepper, books and video games and art supplies from Bruce, Tony, and Steve. There were dress shirts and ties chosen from the teen boys department from her Papa that had her laughing and crying at the same time. A set of throwing knives from Natasha, along with a promise that she would help Aidan learn to throw them safely. So many other gifts that clearly came from the male side of stores that had a bright smile returning to Aidan’s face for the first time in more years than anyone could even remember.

Finally, they were down to just three more smaller gifts.

Clint glanced to Phil before handing Aidan the first of the three. A clothes box, but not quite as large as the previous ones had been. Aidan ripped into the paper with a flourish and froze at what was inside. Three chest binders lay amidst the tissue paper: one black, one white, and one grey.

“We’ll get you more later,” Clint explained quietly, “but we figured three would be good to start with. For now.”

Aidan nearly dropped the box in an attempt to get her arms around Clint’s shoulders to hug him tight. Tears rolled silently down her cheeks and she swiped at them with the back of her hands as she sat back and gently ran her fingers over the top binder.

“Those should fit, we hope.” Phil added, reaching out to brush away a stray tear from Aidan’s face. “They’re definitely supposed to be snug, but if you feel like you can’t breathe, or start getting lightheaded while wearing them, let us know right away. Okay?”

Aidan nodded quickly.

The two gifts that followed were almost more special than the chest binders had been. One, a promissory note, signed by everyone present, that from that day forward Aidan would be addressed by whichever name and pronoun she wanted.

“Really?” The question was quiet and hesitant. Aidan’s blue eyes bright with tears and hope. “Any pronoun? You…mean you’ll call me by male pronouns, now?”

Clint reached out, gripping Aidan’s shoulder gently. “We should have started doing it a long time ago, bud. We didn’t listen, and we’re sorry.”

“Your Dad’s right,” Phil got up from the table and moved to stand alongside Aidan, pulling her – him – up into a hug. “You knew who you were before anyone else could even begin to imagine. You tried to tell us, and we didn’t understand. From now on, while we’re at home, you will be told to act like a gentleman, and told to clean your room, young man.”

A sobby laugh escaped Aidan as he hugged his Papa tighter and nodded. “What about at school?”

“We’re working on that one, Kiddo.” Clint answered, rubbing the back of his neck. The school still wasn’t really willing to work with them on the issue. Insisting that Aidan continue to follow the dress code required for female students, and answer to female pronouns.

Phil nodded and pressed a light kiss to Aidan’s cheek as he pulled back. “It may come down to homeschooling you for a year or so. But for now, you’re going to have to keep following their guidelines while you’re there. Here at home though, you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

Pepper smiled from her place at the table and nodded in agreement. “That’s right. In fact, Natasha and I are going to help you empty all the girl clothes out of your room and you can donate them wherever you please. Then we’ll take you shopping for a whole new wardrobe.”

Aidan smiled shyly at that as he turned to look his honorary aunts and uncles over. Worrying his bottom lip, he glanced at his dads, then back to Pepper. “Actually, could me and my dads go clothes shopping? I mean, no offence to either of you, just…”

From her seat on the other side of the table, Natasha nodded in understanding. “It’s a guy thing.”

“Exactly,” Aidan grinned, nodding and still not quite believing this was happening.

Phil squeezed Aidan’s shoulders and smiled. “We’ll head out first thing tomorrow morning.”

Clint grabbed up the last remaining present and held it out to Aidan. “Here. Last one.”

It was the same shape and size as the one he’d just opened, and like before, it didn’t take long for the paper to be tossed aside and for the box to be opened.

_365 days until start of further transitioning_

Aidan blinked down at the little black box. A digital countdown and promise.

“We checked into it already,” explained Phil quietly. “You have to be at least fourteen years old before they can start you on Testosterone, and there’s a lot of hoops we’re going to have to go through once you turn fourteen before you can get started on it. They also want you to be at least eighteen before they can do any surgeries. Next year, we’ll take you to get started on what we can. And we’ll see what happens from there. That’s a promise that it will happen though.”

* * *

 

Months on Mission: 165

“Dad! Dad!!”

“Aidan. What?”

Aidan yanked at his father’s hand, practically tugging him down to the ground as they wandered the city. He spun back to look behind them, grinning brightly before looking back up at his Dad.

“Didn’t you hear that lady, Dad?”

Clint glanced over his shoulder and looked behind him, frowning in thought. “No, what lady?”

“There was a lady back there. With a cart selling flowers or something. She called me ‘young man’! You didn’t hear her?”

A smile broke out across Clint’s face that he tried to keep hidden. It’d been nearly a year that they finally started calling Aidan by his preferred pronoun at home, but for the most part strangers still called him a ‘precious young lady.’

Pressing his lips together to force the smile back, Clint shook his head and shrugged. “Nope. I didn’t hear anything. Besides, why should she have called you anything else? What, were you hoping she’d call you Stud Muffin or something?”

Scrunching his face up, Aidan shook his head quickly. “No. It…just the first time a stranger’s ever called me that.”

Clint couldn’t hide the smile any longer. He dropped his arm down across Aidan’s petite shoulders and pulled him in to his side. It really did make him feel good to see Aidan finally smiling and laughing again. To see his son finally settling into his skin a bit more. Even if he did still have to deal with all the “unpleasantries” of being a biological female. They were going to work on that though. Soon.

“See, sport? Told you that you were totally all dude.”

Aidan groaned and shoved at Clint’s side, breaking off from the side hug to walk on his own with space between him and his dad. God, parents were so embarrassing and weird.

* * *

 

Months on Mission: 170

Phil looked down at the certificate in his hand. It was the next step in making Aidan feel like he belonged. Like he wasn’t a freak of nature. The new birth certificate with a changed name.

_Aidan Nicolas Barton_

It wasn’t a huge change. He’d decided that Aidan was a decent enough name for a guy, so they didn’t have to change that, but the Nichole _had_ to go. It’d been decided on his fourteenth birthday that they would go and change it, though it took some time to convince him that no, he really didn’t want his middle name to be _Macho_.

Finally, two months after his birthday, Aidan had relented and they’d made just the simple change from Nichole to Nicolas.

When Clint slipped into the bedroom, Phil glanced up and smiled, setting the certificate and his glasses on the nightstand beside the bed. They’d both officially retired from Avenging, though, did still live in the tower with everyone else and served as consultants when needed. Still, Clint was in perfect physical condition and Phil admired it every day that they were together.

“Hey,” Phil called softly. “Aidan finally go to bed?”

Clint laughed under his breath and shook his head. “Nah. He’s doing another YouTube update video. Told him he had ten minutes and then had to hit the sheets.”

“Another video?”

“Hey, very important day for him,” Clint shrugged his shirt off over his head and let it drop into the laundry basket near the door. “Finally got his name officially changed. The school will finally recognize him as male and start treating him like a guy. And he got the green light to get started on Testosterone. It’s a big deal, he wants to share it with others like him.”

A soft smile spread across Phil’s face as he nodded in understanding. It was a pretty big day for him. For all of them. The official start of a life altering change. All three of them had sat and talked with the doctors, and the gender therapists, they provided evidence that this wasn’t just a phase for Aidan, and that for the last year he’d been living it as a male to the best of his ability. It was enough, thank God, to get them greenlighted. The following morning would be the first of many doses of T that Aidan would have to take for the next few years

“Don’t forget, we promised not to make fun of him when his voice started changing.” Phil said as he settled himself down in the blankets and watched his husband finish getting ready for bed.

Clint stuck his tongue out, stripped to his boxers, and climbed under the blankets. “That’s half the fun of going through puberty. That voice doing the adorable cracks and jumps.”

“Clint…”

“I know, I know. I won’t make fun of him. I promise.” Clint snuggled in against Phil’s side, arm draped across his stomach. “So…we’re in for a pretty crazy ride, huh?”

Phil brushed a kiss across Clint’s head, letting his lips linger against his hair. It was definitely going to be an interesting time ahead of them, but it wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle.

“Yeah.” He murmured, “Pretty sure we’ll get through it though.”

* * *

 

Months on Mission: 215

“If there is anything I have learned in my life, it’s that you should never judge a person by what you see on the outside. You should be supportive of those struggling with changes in their lives, of those who are different. Befriend the shy girl who sits alone at lunch because her clothes aren’t as new or as stylish as everyone else, because she could be your only hope at passing Calculus alive,” Aidan glanced up from the podium and smiled out from under his cap as the audience chuckled.

“Listen to the boy who keeps saying his home life is hell, even if he always looks like he’s so put together and shouldn’t have a care in the world. And most importantly, be who you were always meant to be. Don’t let what others think of you define who you are inside. Eighteen years ago, I was born Aidan Nichole Barton. Today, I stand before you, Aidan Nicolas Barton. Because my dads had the compassion and the understanding to see that the little girl they had raised didn’t reflect the pain in the neck son that was hiding under the hideous bowl cuts and Lisa Frank inspired bedroom.”

Again, the auditorium broke into laughter and flashes from cameras. Aidan stood on the stage, his blue cap and gown nearly glowing under the lights. A pair of wire-rim glasses sat perched on his nose, bright blue eyes shining out from behind them as he smiled across the sea of friends and family in front of him. It had taken almost a year for his voice to finally settle in at an octave range not all that dissimilar from his Pops’, but not nearly as low as his Dad’s.

“So as we stand here, together for the last time, I encourage us all to be as compassionate and understanding as my dads. When we go out into the world following this, whether it’s straight to work, into the military, or off to college, remember to be kind and to be slow to judge. Give yourself and others a chance. And be true to yourself, always. Congratulations, Class of 2032. It’s been a wild ride.”

As the graduating class erupted in fits of whoops and cheers, Aidan made his way across the stage, and Phil couldn’t have felt any prouder. Their son had been through so much in the past couple of years, and still had a lot of struggles to get through yet. They had watched him as he’d grown, the extra weight that so many females had melting away to the lean muscles that got stronger every day. Aidan was still lanky, but he wore it well. He stood even taller, more confident despite his lean stature, after his sixteenth birthday, when he was finally allowed to have his top surgery. He’d wanted to graduate high school with a truly flat chest, not one aided by binders. Phil was glad that he and Clint had been able to make that happen for their son.

"He's really somethin' else, huh?" Clint asked in a hushed tone, leaning in against Phil’s side as they watched Aidan finally take his seat down with the rest of his classmates. Though they’d faced a lot of struggles and uncertainties through the years, Phil knew he wouldn’t have changed a thing.  

Smiling, he turned his head enough to look back at his husband, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet but fond and proud. "Yeah. He really is.”  


**Author's Note:**

> I watched a looooot of videos on YouTube about FTM transitions, and did my absolute best to research this as well as I could. It's something that's pretty close to me for reasons only a very select few know. And so needless to say, I had many tissues and sniffles while watching the vids and while writing this. And I hope I did it the justice it deserved.


End file.
